“So he has money?” I ask.

“Um, I’m not sure. But Jason said his dad is some investment banker guy, so I think it’s his family that has money, not necessarily him. But, I mean, he is a veterinarian now, so he’ll be making pretty damn good money.”

Typical. Good-looking doctor, who happens to come from money. This couldn’t be any better than if I were reading it in one of my books.

“And”—she nudges me with her shoulder—“Jason said he’s single.”

I shake my head at her, but smile. “I’m not looking for anything.”

“I know. You always say that, but when are you going to be looking for something? It’s okay to date, Aundrea. To go out. Have fun.”

“I go out.”

“I mean with a guy.”

“I do.”

“Who is not your friend.”

“I don’t want complications. I have enough going on.” I’ve tried dating, but it causes too many complications, so I avoid it as much as possible.

“Aundrea.”

“Please, Genna. Can we drop this? No one wants to date a girl with cancer.”

I don’t want to get out of bed. It’s chemo day. I’m thankful my appointment is in the morning. It’s bad enough that I have to spend more than three hours there; it’s better to just get it over with.

After throwing on some jean capris and a basic coral t-shirt, I make sure to grab my phone and Kindle. I don’t bother applying any makeup besides a little concealer around my eyes and mascara.

Genna told me she was heading to the car, so I quickly make my way to the kitchen to pour myself a mug of coffee for the road. Slipping on my black ballerina flats, I make my way out into the chilly morning air.

“Why are we leaving an hour early?” I ask as I make my way in.

“Because Jason forgot a couple of charts he brought home over the weekend. He called when he got in asking me to drop them off on our way.”

Awesome.

I watch as she reaches to turn the radio down. Family time: this can’t be good!

“Did you talk to Mom and Dad at all?”

“Briefly,” I say. “Before I went to bed.”

“And?”

“Nothing. Both said they wish they could be here. I don’t know why, though. I mean …” I pause, trying to find the right words. “They would just sit next to me for a couple hours being bored, then watch me get sick. Not the way I’d want to spend my time.”

The first chemo treatment is the worst as far as throwing up and nausea go. Doesn’t matter what type of cancer you have or what type of drugs they use the first time. The doctors don’t really know what they’re doing. Okay, that’s not true. They do; but it’s trial and error. They don’t know how you’ll react to the drugs or the dosage. They just administer them, see how you react, and adjust as needed.

Yup, sounds fun, doesn’t it?

“They do, you know. Wish they could be here.”

“I know.”

And I do. With all my heart. My parents are amazing. They’ve always been there for me, before and during this entire process. It hit my mom the hardest when she couldn’t get vacation time from her new job to come with me, but she knows I’m with Genna, which I think is the only reason she didn’t take a leave of absence.

The medical bills are never-ending, so my mom couldn’t afford to work part-time anymore. She needed to switch to full-time at her current job, as well as take on a second part-time job to help out.

The expenses related to the Hodgkin’s lymphoma have thrown my parents into bankruptcy. My dad’s insurance wasn’t the best, with a high deductible and an even higher maximum out-of-pocket. No matter how many times my parents pleaded with facilities for a payment plan, it always came back to them wanting ten percent a month. Ten percent of thousands of dollars from multiple places adds up quickly. Eventually, they lost their house, so we moved into a three-bedroom mobile home that had just the right amount of space for the three of us. To this day, I feel awful for all the financial stress, being the cause of them losing everything they worked hard for.

My parents never show it, though. You’d never know any of it by just looking or talking with them. It’s as if losing their home or living paycheck to paycheck hasn’t affected them. They always smile, never fight, and are willing to get me or my sister anything we need.

We pull into the parking lot of For the Love of Paws. It’s a little after eight, so only a few cars are around.

Genna makes her way into the building. I don’t follow.

After five minutes, Shannon opens the door yelling for me to come in.

Holding the door open for me, she gives me a sweet smile. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

Making my way into the small, quiet waiting area, I look around. There’s only one person waiting with her pet carrier. I can hear dogs barking and cats meowing from down the hall where they keep the animals overnight for surgery.

They’re speaking my language. I know what it’s like to be held in a place you don’t want to be.

“Did Genna get lost? The place isn’t that big.”

“No. Someone Jason went to school with is here with her dog. I guess Genna wanted to say hi. She went in with him.” Great. One thing I’ve learned over the years is that Genna likes to talk. A lot. She also likes details, especially if she hasn’t seen someone for a while.